Life, Love, Spiritual Living and the odd Catastrophe…..

Pushed to the Limit

“Never esteem anything as of advantage to you that will make you break your word or lose your self-respect.” ― Marcus Aurelius, Meditations

There are times when, irrespective of how much you try to do otherwise, you fly off the handle. These episodes are usually preceded by periods of intense pressure, things not going according to plan or life generally not playing out the way you hoped. Colloquially they are called “knee jerk’ reactions. They are usually regretted almost immediately as soon as the blood cools down sufficiently for coherent thought to return.

If, like me, that cooling off can be fairly quick, most of the time, it leads to a great deal of soul searching and castigation for behaving in a manner which isn’t liked. However, many times the damage has already been done. Trying to set things right is quite often impossible.

All my life I’ve been told I should behave in certain ways. I was “better than my protagonist” and so held to a higher standard. “I knew better than that” and so should have controlled that impulse to retaliate. When you are placed on a pedestal and expected to live up to everyone’s perception of who you are, it can be extremely difficult to find the real you. You may not even recognise the‘real you’.

image from cstl.semo.edu

There have been times, over the years, when that pedestal has rocked alarmingly as I tried to keep my footing living up to so many other people’s ideas of who and what I was. Can you imagine how difficult it might be to understand what you want in life when you are so busy living up to someone else’s ideal? The saddest part of the situation is that it all begins with the best of intentions.

Hard as it may be to understand I was a very shy and quiet child. Head down and mouth closed so I drew as little attention to myself as possible. Yet all the time I was trying to live up to firstly my parent’s expectations of me and later my first husband, my work colleagues, my brothers, and then it seemed everyone else. Everyone had this idea of who I was and how I would respond in certain circumstances. My first husband had a whole list of ways in which I was allowed to behave and respond that I hardly knew who I was. Sad, pathetic but true. The fact that I did respond as they expected, because it was expected, simply cemented these thoughts in their mind. Sadly, very few of these personas held more than a grain of the real me.

Not wanting to disappoint anyone it was easier to continue to play the roles I was ‘given’. It was safer in one particular area to follow the ‘rules’ than to face the consequences. At the same time I was able to hold down responsible positions, firstly as a police officer, later as a bank official and mother, school chairpersons and so on. I wasn’t actually hidden away where it may have been easier.

Realisation, when it seeped in was the beginning of the real humiliation. Knowing I had been this milksop of a person when I could think, had opinions and could do so many things was quite devastating. The fact that my husband was a police officer meant that I had nowhere to go and no-one to go to. Who would believe me over a serving police officer? It simply didn’t happen, not when the domination is psychological and emotional.

It is still hard for me to write these words, to accept them as reality and realise what I allowed myself to become – a doormat. I was a slave programmed to perform to command. I can never look at a woman in a domestic violence situation and condemn her, man, woman or child in that situation because it can be started so insidiously that it is too late by the time you realise. I was a slave to my ex-husband’s drive to achieve financial stability. The fact that he failed to support his children after I left, usurped part of my settlement and told the children it was theirs, all added to the ongoing manipulation. He is still doing this to my children, though they are grown and through them he is doing it to me because he knows they are the only way he can reach me.

image from paulissakippisms.com –

Why have I told you all this. Because if it happened to me it can happen to anyone and if someone reads this and recognises where they are in this cycle and can get out, it is worth my embarrassment. If it helps someone reach out, to me or to someone else it is worth the embarrassment. I am tired of allowing him this hold over me. I am taking my life back, all of it and I refuse to allow him the space in my mind, in my life ever again.

This is real. It can happen to anyone, at any time. Please, if you recognise someone who is drowning under this type of treatment, offer a helping hand. Tell someone in authority and help them before it’s too late. Life is a precious gift and shouldn’t be destroyed by insecure bullies.

I am a woman, flesh and bone, heart and soul.

“Every woman that finally figured out her worth, has picked up her suitcases of pride and boarded a flight to freedom, which landed in the valley of change.” ― Shannon L. Alder

Everyone has the right to respect, like breathing, take it away and the soul dies. – Susan Jamieson

14 Responses

This needed to be said… There are so many people who need to hear it, and know there is another path… Perhaps a long path round through life to get back tot he starting point, but much better than the road to perdition they are currently on… Please pass it on…

Sweetie, you are so damn brave, just another reason I admire you… That part of your life is over forever…
Ray XX

No need for embarrassment; I am so very proud of you and who you are on your way to becoming. From someone who survived to someone who is and will thrive… Blessings for your strength and courage and beauty.

Thanks so much for sharing this. I was in a very difficult marriage and recognise much of what you say. It is hard to hold onto one’s own truth when a bully is determined to chip away at it, but hold on we must.

Very true, there are times when we lose sight of who we are but have to strive to get back to who we really are. It does make us stronger but also able to see the humanity more clearly.
I haven’t forgotten Facebook and connecting – things can become overwhelming at times.
Blessings Sarah
Susan x

You are a courageous woman. I helped start a Domestic Violence shelter in the 70’s. There wasn’t a job I didn’t do. I still write about abuse. I am 63 and disabled. It is difficult for people who have been abused to discuss it often times. I was abused myself as a child. My mother was my abuser. It takes much therapy and work to heal. Keep working on the healing. Hugs, Barbara

Many thanks Barbara, sometimes I think I have it under control and it’s been sorted out and at others it flies back as if there had been no time in between. Such is the nature of life and we have to roll with the flow.
I still feel that there is something we are missing when we are raising our children. The old values of manners and behaviour may be outdated and may need to be modernized but they are a good starting place.
Blessings, Susan x

I have been there. It is such a challenge as a parent to instill in your children the need to appreciate the sensitivities of others as well as practicing good general manners. All too often it becomes a matter of threats, bargains and simply shaming them into submission. I grew up literally feeling as though I must do things the way someone who “loved” me wanted or they wouldn’t love me. That extended, of course, to the world at large whenever I was in an acceptance situation. Being oneself is important, but the other side of that is being that person in spite of the harm it does. When these two personalities meet, it is all too often a recipe for abuse. I am happy you found your strength to stop that type of abuse.

Thank You, It is really a very long story, one I’m not ready to tell yet. I feel it might be helpful? if I could write it as a book, to help others who may miss the warning signs, are blinded by their own feelings of strength and suffer as a result.
I was delighted to hear that my son, who suffered also, bought his girlfriend a beautiful big bunch of flowers and they went out on a special picnic together. He has absorbed the good from the horror.Small miracles make a difference.
Blessings Susan x

Hi Susan,
I am certain when the time is right, you will find the words to express it all perfectly and I know such a book would be very helpful to others who are, or have, suffered similar histories. Love and Light. cheryl